


Better Than A Volleyball, Anyway

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, Hugs, Touch Starved McCoy, but he ain't happy about it, humans are aggressively social and Bones is no exception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 11:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10464357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Humans need touch. It's an essential thing, no human is exempt. Not even irritable doctors.





	

Logically, Spock knew humans needed physical contact in order to remain mentally sound. He observed the way his human crewmates would initiate contact casually after stressful missions or even simply because they could. He knew Jim had an apparent need to touch Spock as often as he could get away with. But he had never truly given it any in depth thought until the _Enterprise_ had taken off from a plague ridden planet (newly cured thanks to McCoy's quick thinking) and Spock had ventured to the Sickbay for a routine checkup.

The doctor had glared at him when he'd entered, and Spock noticed an odd bleakness in his eyes. Spock opened his mouth to speak, to question, but the doctor beat him to it.

"Ah, hell, better than nothing." McCoy scowled, and before Spock could ask what he had done this time to earn McCoy's ire, the man had crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Spock's torso, pressing his face to Spock's shoulder. Through his sudden bewilderment at the situation, Spock managed to observe the doctor's avoidance of any actual contact with Spock's skin, and the tightness of his grip, like Spock would pull away any second so he'd better make the most of the hug.

Standing stiffly in the CMO's office with an armful of irritable doctor, Spock was understandably confused. He blinked once. Twice. McCoy didn't budge, latched on to Spock like a vine on a building. A very emotional, tense, scowling vine.

"Doctor, either you have mistaken me for someone else or I have reason to be concerned for your mental health." Spock finally said after a brief moment of silence.

"Can it, Spock." McCoy snapped, juxtaposed by his arms tightening around Spock, "Just... I need this, okay? I'm human. I'm stressed. I've been in my office damn near a week trying to cure that thrice-cursed plague. I've got three friends in the god damned world and two of them aren't available right now, and sometimes a man just needs a hug. I'll be outta your hair in just a minute."

If it was anyone else, Spock would likely have extracted himself from the embrace and excused himself. But, strangely enough, he didn't feel the need to do so here. He considered McCoy his friend, despite everything, and their debates were a point of enjoyment in his day. His health, mental and otherwise, was of personal importance to him.

"Would my compliance stabilize your emotional state?" Spock asked, adding this occurrence to the ever growing mental list of the oddities of emotional behavior.

"Sure." McCoy shrugged, "I guess a hug back wouldn't be too terrible, even if it is from you." Spock's response was to gingerly place his own hands at the doctor's back, noting curiously the minuscule sigh of contentment that left McCoy's lips. It was likely the doctor didn't realize he'd done it. McCoy was warm, several degrees above Spock's temperature, and his emotions danced just outside Spock's reach, shielded by the Starfleet issue shirt.

The sensation... wasn't awful. And McCoy was a solid presence in his arms, breathing and tangible, tired and lonely enough to seek solace in a Vulcan. For a moment, it was as though Spock was acting as a barrier against the world, like he could shield McCoy from the evils he feared, hide the man from the bags under his eyes and the lines on his face, the memories he couldn't outrun. Perhaps that illusion of protection, of safety, was one of the reasons humans so craved contact.

Or perhaps he'd been reading too much human poetry.

"The human obsession with physical contact continues to baffle me." Spock said idly, "But I did not realize it was such an intrinsic need that it would drive you to seek its fulfillment in me, when you often claim my presence to be an irritant."

"It comes with being part of an aggressively social species." McCoy snorted, "I don't like it either."

"Are all humans biologically driven to seek companionship?" Spock asked, momentarily seized with an urge to rest his chin on McCoy's head. The urge passed quickly, but it set Spock's mind racing with theories as to why it had appeared in the first place.

"Yup. Touch starvation is a serious health concern, I see it all the time. Lack of touch can actually screw up infant development, and as a whole we tend to go a little nuts if we're alone too long. In fact, sometimes if we can't find a friend, we'll _make_ a friend, like a rock or a pillow or something."

"That is... worrying."

"One time I was trapped on an ocean planet alone for a week, and by the time I was rescued, I'd started talking to my medkit." McCoy chuckled. Spock blinked.

"This apparent phenomenon is intriguing, but disturbing." Spock said. McCoy laughed, his whole body shaking with the sound.

"I'll send you some thesis' on it. And maybe some movies, like Castaway or Solaris." Spock took mental note of the way McCoy's shoulders seemed to loosen the longer the contact went on, how his breathing subconsciously slowed. Fascinating.

"This would explain many of your eccentricities." Spock would have sounded entirely indifferent to someone who didn't know how to listen for the smile in his voice, "I understand you are considered an somewhat of an isolationist among other humans. I believe the term Jim used was 'a reclusive killjoy'."

McCoy headbutted his shoulder in retaliation, not budging from the embrace. They stayed there for another two minutes, until duty and Spock's comm forced them to part.

And if Spock went out of his way to initiate contact with McCoy after that, if he touched his shoulder more often and placed a hand on his back when that bleakness began to return to the brown eyes, who was going to say anything?

**Author's Note:**

> It's probably ooc but whatever, I just love these two


End file.
